


the echos of the forsaken

by Flutey



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amaterasu - Freeform, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Uchiha Sasuke, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Cats, Curses, Emotional Manipulation, Endocannibalism, Gen, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Horror, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Incest, Itachi’s sickness does not exist bc thats BULLSHIT, M/M, Mangekyou Sharingan, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Uchiha Sasuke, Protective Hatake Kakashi, Protective Uchiha Itachi, Psychological Drama, Someone help sasuke, Spirits, Susanoo - Freeform, The uchihas being soft over sasuke, Tsukuyomi - Freeform, Uchiha Itachi Has Issues, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug, Uchiha Sasuke-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24588688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flutey/pseuds/Flutey
Summary: "Nothing is ever certain. Reality is often fickle, protected by nothing except by the simple conviction of time and human mind. When that rarefied barrier breaks, time shifts and realities alter."-Or how the disappearance of the last Uchiha in Konoha reveals secrets buried hundreds of years ago, Amaterasu loves the child she craved with her own hands too much and Kakashi just wants a break.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Fugaku/Uchiha Mikoto, Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi/Uchiha Sasuke (implied), Uchiha Mikoto & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke & Uchiha Shisui
Comments: 25
Kudos: 171





	1. Awaken

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to add timelines like "Year 65" or "Year 32" just for better understanding.

**Year 78, Before The Wave Mission**

* * *

The skies were a beautiful orange, so very different from a rather obnoxious teammates he has (wishes that he didn't have). Crows cawed and he could see many perched up in the old trees planted by his grandmother, Hironi. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could hear her heavy footsteps and her gentle humming as she watered the plants.

She would lightly reprimand him whenever he got too close to the plants, almost trampling them. He would jump at her voice and laugh sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. It happened on the daily that her scolding turned into a joke between them. Then one day, when he stepped on a plant, he didn't hear her. 

He stood there and wondered _Grandma should be here, did she forgot to water them today?_ Perhaps he should be ashamed that he did not remember, not until he walked further into the clan grounds, the silence deafening when there was usually much noise. 

When there was the smell of fire embers, human odors mixed with innate objects, was now replaced by the smell of mold, decay and animals. Cats and crows especially.

He would let the cats stay, often leaving out food for them lick on but he would try to chase the crows out, even if they reminded him of his late cousin, Shisui. They always relented, no matter how many times he tried. If he chased them all away in the morning, they would come back to perch on the branches by nightfall. 

It was almost eerie the way their black eyes stared at him.

(They reminded him more of that man, than they did of Shisui.) 

Quickly fed up, he huffed and only paid attention to the cats. They came around so often, he eventually made small homes for them. He made homes of many styles but they always seemed to favor the wooden ones with dark paint. He noted that the color blue was their favourite. 

What started from a few cats, went up to probably hundreds of cats. Even if most of them tended to wander off to wherever they pleased, they all came back to the Uchiha grounds when the day ended. 

It wasn't until one of the biggest cats, a beautiful male Caracal, snorted at his confusion and actually spoke out, "We aren't _just_ cats, we are the nekos made to protect the Uchiha. Most of us aided your kin in mission, even learn to complete jutsus together with them." 

He blinks at the caracal in surprise, before blurting out, "I'm the only Uchiha left." 

"Yes, that is why we remain. To protect you, the very last of our masters." So, they were technically summons. 

He hummed, letting his hands rake over the soft fur and the caracal let him, "Do you have a name?"

"She called used to call me Umi." 

He drops his hand, and they both pay visit to his third cousin that day. He wonders if they all were in a better place than this hellish world. 

Today, he sits like a statue even if he was running late for his mission. He should be getting up, gathering his things and meet up with his team. They would no doubt scream at him for being late—well, Naruto would. Sakura would just dreamily stare at him like always and Kakashi was the one who was _always_ late, so it would be hypocritical of him to scold him. 

He feels something wet touching his fingers, and he barely looks down to notice it was one of the newborns. The tiny black cat licked his fingertips, meowing worriedly. He gives out a shaky breath and rasps out, "I'm fine." 

The tiny cat narrowed it's eyes towards him, as if calling him out for his obvious lie. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to move, he wanted to move but he _ached_. 

He supposes it was concerning that there were days where he simply did not move. The days where he would sit in the wooden rocking chair that his old aunt, Yua, loved to sit and burrow in endless bear skins. His bones would feel like dust crumbling away and the dull ringing in his ears would go on for hours, his skin too stretched out. 

The world would shift and he would see his clan—his mother specially. Gone were her small smiles and instead, she would laugh those laughs that were not weathered by the pain in the world, untainted by the wrongness of humans. Her pale skin would be brighter than ever, and the black dresses she adored fitted her in a way that made her look ten years younger. 

It had always felt like he was phasing through something thin-like, an invisible wall that felt far from safe. 

Those were the days the clock stopped ticking at the eleventh hour.

He would not admit that he was slipping, drifting off to a place even he not knew, because admitting it would mean he was admitting he had a weakness. And he is not _weak._

_("Foolish little brother.")_

* * *

He arrives an hour late to the bridge, barely able to tone out the phantom burns and the idiot takes this opportunity to mock him. 

"What's this? I thought _Sasuke-kun_ was able to do everything, which includes not being late. I guess he's not all that he's cracked up to be." Naruto drawls at him, and he feels a vein popping at the mention of the name. Sakura twitches and raises her hand, bringing it down on Naruto's head. The blonde wailed and clutched his head, exclaiming a loud 'Sakura-chan!'. 

He pretends he doesn't feel satisfaction at the cry. 

"Don't insult Sasuke-kun! Everyone can make mistakes! Do I need to remind you the time where you didn't even show up for the mission, because you slept throughout the whole day?" 

Naruto whined, looking ready to say something back but then dropped his head at the look he received. He was barely able to keep a snort down, instead leaning over the railing and letting his muscles relax. The noise of Sakura and Naruto bantering oddly soothed him, even if he would never admit it. 

Kakashi, their so-called-genius sensei greets them two hours later, which prompts both of his teammates to immediately launch into yelling at the man. Their sensei laughs and gives the same as always lame excuse of finding a cat stuck in a tree, needing him to rescue to it and then there was this grandma—

You know what? He wasn't even going to mention that one. 

The mission goes as well as any mission goes with them. The idiot managed to lose that damned cat _thrice_ , and Sakura wouldn't stop pestering him for dates that he says no to every time. His reflexes are more sluggish, more slower than ever and he notices Kakashi eyeing him multiple times. The man was not being discreet and was obviously all-up-in-your-face staring at him. It grated his nerves, and the man took far too much joy to see him twitching underneath the stare. 

"Not enough sleep, Sasuke?" 

Of course, the man had to point something out and he grits his teeth as Sakura and Naruto look at him questiongly, "I was training." 

A lie, and a lie his teacher caught. 

Kakashi narrows his eyes but doesn't comment on it. He feels a small flicker of gratefulness because he would never, _never_ tell about how empty he feels and about how some days he hears his brother ( _Not brother, he's not Itachi, his Itachi died on that night—_ ) laugh at a joke Shisui cracks or how he smiles at him like he was the center of Itachi's world. 

Naruto, on the other hand goes all off it, squinting his eyes at him. He cringed inwardly at the sight, it was rather ugly and he knows that if he were to jab about it, the dobe would scream at him like a banshee. 

Naruto pointed at him and exclaimed, "Hey, bastard, what happened to your face? I mean, it's all white! You look like a corpse. Well, usually you look like dead guy, that's not new but today you look extra fucked up. What's the deal?" 

"Naruto!" Sakura gasps. 

"None of your business, dobe." 

"Hey! I was actually worried for you but you're still the same bastard." 

"Stop it, Naruto!" Sakura yells, exasperated.

He tunes all of them out again, ignoring the noises that causes him headaches on daily basis. This is why he prefers animals better. Their quiet purring and their soft patters of their feet are a much better alternative of human pandemonium. If they wanted to worry themselves about him then they can worry to death. He couldn't care less. 

* * *

The house is cold when he steps inside. The hard wood was cold underneath his feet, the air was cold when it would usually be accompanied by his mother's scent and the smell of warm food, the walls felt cold when it would always echo with the booming voice of his father, the rooms were cold when before it was littered with his toys and Itachi's brushes. Everything was cold and barely home. 

The only thing that gave him a sense of belonging were his cats. Those little troublemakers always managed to break into his house and rubbed their tails all over the furniture and make it warm. He always told himself that it was themselves; felines needed a hot place to nest in but somewhere within him, he knew that it was for him. 

For him to return to something, for him to come back and feel the cozy atmosphere that one's home should have. 

He muses all of this while slowly sliding his clothes off, tiredness aching in his bones. It makes him feel like his grandmother, all old and worn out. He picks up his pale white shirt from the laundry basket and inspect it, deeming it good enough to wear. 

Dinner is a quiet affair, it has been for the last five years. He manages to cook up a nice omelette with some white rice, enough for him to last for days. The rice taste warm in his mouth, and the omelette sweet but he couldn't find it in himself to savor it. He distinctly wonders where his felines were, wonders if they were all fed and properly nested in. He had grown to care for them more than he had cared for anyone in the last few years. 

They were his anchor, holding him steady and not letting him be swept by the harsh waves of grief. If anything were to happen to any one of them, he would—

He doesn't let his thoughts go airway, his companions were fine, they could do without him hovering over them like a mother. 

Nodding at the thought, he digs into his food.

* * *

The blade—his mother's tachi—is a beautiful black with golden-red threads adoring the handle. It was a majestic blade, one that had seen countless battles and cut deep through enemies, the rust and smell was proof of it. He remembers the day he had stumbled across this. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he asked his mother about the blade hidden underneath her wardrobe.

 _"It was my choice of weapon, the Uchiha are very proficient with swords and even more so than the Senju ever were. This one here, has been more of a friend to me than anyone else."_ She had said. 

He had seen her caring for the tachi multiple times, cleaning it and oiling it even when she longer drifted towards battle. She was a warrior no more, a house-wife she was when he was born. He asked her, "Do you miss it—the missions and fighting, I mean."

 _"Of course not, I am content with where I am, content with you and Itachi."_ It was a lie he had noticed right away, her eyes still longed for the heaviness of the tachi in her hands and for the thrill of battles. He knows, that if she had to choose between she had before them and the life with them, the would choose the first. No shinobi could ever settle a life with no war. 

Especially not Uchiha. 

(After her death, he had come and cared for the sword everyday. It was the least he could do for her.) 

The weight of the tachi was familiar in his hands now after years of caring for it. No longer was it stiff and hard, instead it was strong. If he was going to admit, the sword was an old friend of his. It had even managed to outlive all of his kinsmen, when it was forged when his mother was barely thirteen.

The steel was cold when he pressed it near his heart, his arms still aching. 

_They're gone_ , he thinks with each breath he takes, _I'm all alone._

A crow caws and he drops the blade to the ground.


	2. The footsteps of them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a native english speaker. It is not my second language nor my third. So, please be considerate of my grammar and story telling

**Year 78, Before The Wave Mission**

* * *

It has been days since the time he held his mother's tachi near his heart. He ought to give it a name; with the many times he has been going to clean it up. It has been an headache for him to refer it as 'Tachi' or 'Blade'. Something nice, something gentle like his mother's eyes, black and shimmering. Something like Ash, or Coal. But, he doesn't think the blade was going to appreciate at being called Coal.

So, he names the blade 'Dolion'.

"Deceitful. You named your mother's blade deceitful?" A rippling laughter echoes his room and he turns to look at someone long dead.

"Leave me alone, Shisui." His tone is abrupt, cold enough to let the other party know that he wasn't in the mood. Shisui groans at him, his mouth stretching across his face to his ears inhumanely. Blood oozed out from empty sockets where black eyes where might have been; he wonders what happened to them. Did _that_ man pick them out, like one picks out a grape?

"Sasukeeeeeee, don't cut me out. I feel hurt, you know? Where's my baby cousin who would let me squish his cheeks? Where's the baby cousin who would ride my shoulders?"

"He died." The words were said with bite, and he regretted them when his cousin flinched. Didn't Shisui see he was busy? Though, painting might not seem important to many. He had been painting for hours, his fingers tinted with blues and greens. He thinks of hanging it in the main hall, to block out the bland walls. Who knows, it might even give some color to the dead looking house.

"No, you're not dead. I'm dead, remember?" Shisui retorts.

He sighs with his heart heavy, putting the brush in the holder, " _You're_ not dead."

"But, I am." Shisui frowns at him, all eyeless with blood dripping down his chins and onto the paper he's painting on. He hisses and swats Shisui away like a fly, watching as the blood mixed with blues, coloring a brilliant purple. He blinks as the purple suits the green grass much better. Huh, that could work.

"If you are long gone, then how come I can see you?"

The thing is that he _knows_ that Shisui is dead; has been dead for a longer time than his clansmen. he doesn't think that he will ever forget the day those men came to their house, bringing the news that _Shisui was dead_ and that _his brother_ might had been the one to do it. He wanted to cry at the thought that his cousin was gone, wanted to weep at the prospect that his brother might have been the one to end the light in Shisui's eyes.

"Drowned?" He had asked, disbelief on his voice. "Shisui would never—He was—It's _impossible,_ Shisui is one of the best swimmers in Konoha. We played in that river everyday, it's simply impossible."

"Sasuke." His mother shushed him, and he hated the sympathy in her eyes. It was impossible, it was as if the sky had been filled with water instead of clouds and he was standing in the hot fiery pit of lava instead the ground.

Shisui was gone, gone, _gone._

The thought of Shisui's sable black hair floating in the waters where they had played often, was enough to undo him.

 _I'll never see him again_ , he had wept back then. _I'll never be able to play with him, I'll never be able to ride his shoulders and go training ever again. I can never_ —

"Hey, easy, do not lose yourself in the memories." Shisui's voice breaks him out, and he shudders at the cold hands grasping his shoulder. It was cold, so cold like the river Shisui had drowned in. He draws in a raspy breath, breathes in the frosty scent of his cousin. It had been so easy to fall into his memories, so easy to relive his pain like this.

"Who did this to you, Shisui? Who killed you?" He asks, gasping and desperate for answers. Desperate to know that it wasn't his brother like those men accused that day, desperate that maybe, just maybe, Shisui was killed by another. 

Shisui stills behind him, gripping his shoulders tighter and he suddenly feels ice-cold, "You should know better than to ask the dead about such things." 

The rage wells within in him before he could stop it, the fire in him raging hard and furious. He burns with it, burns with the righteous anger, "No! You don't get to do this to me! Not you, you were the only who never lied! You were the only one who thought to tell me the truths than to keep me in the dark all those years, you never hid anything from me. Did you?" 

"Sasuke..." Shisui looks at him, agape with his mouth still stretched monstrously. 

_"Don't look at me like that!"_ He stood up and screamed at mere dead wisp of his cousin. Even if his cousin's eyes were gone, they still conveyed more emotion than his father's did. The look of pity and sympathy grated him more than anything. He didn't need the pity, he needed answers. Why didn't Shisui get that? 

"Sasuke, I'm dead." Shisui says, and he growls in frustration. 

"I know!" He screams again, he knows but he needs the answers. Something pricks behind his eyes and vehemently he blinks, forcing back whatever it was. 

"I'm dead." Shisui repeats, monotonous. 

He chokes on his words, "I _know._ "

Dropping to the ground, his knees scraping the floor, he sobs. Tears trailed across his cheeks and he tried to wipe them away with his sleeves but it was for naught. The pain came crashing down on him, and feels the grief tear away at his heart. He screams and screams at Shisui, _Don't do this to me, don't leave me to lament after you._ But his cousin remains silent, watches him like a cold breeze, watches him claw at the ground until his fingers bled. 

"If you cannot answer me, then why do you remain so? Why do you come to torment me with your visage? Say it, say that I have gone mad and I will not blame you. Because you are someone long dead and I should not see you." His throat felt raw from the pressure, and he whimpers slightly. He does not care being this vulnerable, not to someone like Shisui.

The room is silent; a contrast to the much noise before, and he couldn't bring himself to look at his cousin. He stubbornly bores his eyes into the wood under him, determined to get something out of Shisui. 

"Because, it is her will." 

He snaps his head towards Shisui, confusion now dimming the rage inside of him, "Who's will? Who?" 

Shisui does not answer. 

_("Why can't you come with me, Shisui-san?" He whined, kicking his foot into the floor. Childish he was, when he was younger. Still so naive of the outside, blind of the misery and tragedies._

_Shisui smiled and oh, couldn't he have noticed how melancholic the smile was? "Forgive me, Sasuke. I need to borrow your brother for a while. When I come back, I promise I'll take you wherever you want."_

_That was the last time he ever saw Shisui.)_

* * *

The one who greets him in the night is not his cousin, it his mother. She looked young as ever, serene she looked in her black dress and her long hair, as if at peace. He does not fault her for finding peace, she deserved it after serving their clan well. But, a small selfish part of him always thought, _How can you be at tranquil while your son perishes in despair?_

As always, when he thought such, he squashed it under guilt. His anger was not for his mother, not when she loved him through all of those years and cared for him. No, such anger was never at his mother. 

"You are holding the knife wrong," Her voice too, is beautiful as ever, "No wonder the onions come out so uneven." 

"I forgot, mother." He says, unaffected by her cold presence and flips the knife the in his other hand. It was a habit of his, to hold the knife wrong. When his mother was around, and his hands were small, trembling, she would lightly step around him and steady the knife. She would then, correct his fingers and chide him softly for ruining the potatoes. 

Under her mentor ship, he had learned the art of culinary fairly quick. He had been afraid at first, thinking of what would his father say, thinking of what the other would say. The cooking were something the men never show an interest at, only grasping the bare and minimal recipes needed to survive in missions. 

But, the thought of spending more time with his mother and cooking meals for his brother when he came home, won him over and he gave in. 

He remembers shyly pulling his mother's skirt, cheeks blushing while asking, "C-can I learn how to cook? I have finished all of my work and training a-and father does not come home until nightfall—" 

_"Of course, Sasuke. There is no shame in learning how to take care of yourself, and cooking meals is a step for taking care of yourself. After all, if I am gone then you have to cook for yourself."_ She reassured him, petting his black hair. 

He wished she hadn't said that.

Looking back, he was glad that he had pushed his pride aside and mastered cooking. After the massacre, there was no one left to make meals for him. He did not think that he could have eaten from restaurants forever, and he did not think that he would be able to stomach what others would make. 

"Good, the potatoes are at least skinned well. Oh my, are you making fish fillets?" She walked around him and peered down at the pan filled with sauce and vegetables, her hair caressing his cheek. 

"Yes," He threw in the pieces of the potatoes, "The fishes I bought were going bad, I thought it would be better to cook them early on." 

"Itachi would have loved this." She off-handily mentions, still checking over the ingredients and making sure he didn't put in the wrong ones. She always made sure he didn't ruin the meal. 

He stood motionless for a moment, remembering to breathe. It was pathetic how he freezes over because of a name but it is a name he uttered a thousand times with love, and a hundred times with pain. _This_ name—should leave him with vengeance and the promise of death but it leaves him breathless and aching. His mother does not seem to notice his panic so he forces himself to shove it away, locking it under his memories, wanting it to remain there until the day he died. 

"Do you hate him?" 

"No," He says with sick realisation, "I do not hate him but I hate _him._ " 

His mother tilts her head in confusion and her gaze became different, it did not feel like her, it was unsettling and he quivered slightly at the heaviness of it it. No, this was not his mother's gaze instead it was someone else's. It was laced with something ancient and he felt so small underneath it. 

"I do not hate my brother, not my Aniki." He forces his voice to be even, "I hate Itachi Uchiha. I hate the man who wore his skin and killed my kinsmen." 

He thinks of when he woke up in the hospital room, surrounded by the smell of plastic and walls of white. It took him hours to understand, to understand that everyone he loved was gone— _dead._ He remembered to not suffocate under the weight of his grief, to not let it bind him into a corner. He had faintly felt cold arms around him, it had almost felt like his mother and still then, he refused to weep. 

The nurse sent him looks of pity and sympathy, her offers of food and soothing words were unanswered by him. She had tried, he remembers, tried to comfort him but he was too raw, too strained to not _feel._ Eventually she gave up from getting any response and let him stare at the wall blankly. 

Her last words to him had been, _"I wish you a kinder sea."_

The hokage had looked so old back then, as if a simple gust of wind could knock him away. His head had been free of his hat, and instead bowed down, his voice was grave and stricken, "Child," He had said, "Forgive me." 

_Forgive you for what?_ He wanted to ask. But, the hearing the truth had already submerged him and not even the fires of nirvana could bring him back. _It had to be a lie_ , he had told himself, _he wouldn't do that._

His brother who hated to hurt, his brother who let him braid his hair, his brother who laughed at his silly drawings, his brother who protected him from their father's disappointed gaze? His Aniki? 

_He would never._

"The devil has my brother." He tells his mother, "The devil has stolen my brother and wore his skin. My brother loved me—loved _us_ all." 

"Indeed," She moved away from him and instead sat on one of the chairs, her eyes pinning him down, "He loves you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew! I set my goal of each chapter 2000 words so it's satisfying for me to see each of them reached. I think this story is going to be more of uchiha sad times than actual plot XD. This is the first time im attempting something big so please tell me if it's going well or nor. Reviews help me alot!  
> Sasuke, is ooof not doing well at all.


	3. The End Is The Beginning And The Beginning Is The End

**Infinity**

* * *

The first thing that comes to his sleep-ridden mind is that he's falling into darkness.

His body felt loose in a way that he hadn't felt for years. There was no pressure protesting against his weight nor were there any wind cascading him, he was simply falling through a place with no light to see. He tries to grasp into something, anything but he finds nothing except for never ending darkness. Panic seizes his throat and he finds himself unable to breathe, truly baffled. 

Where was he, before this? 

He remembered resting in his bed, quilt draped over him and burrowed into the bed. He had gone to bed early, eager to get a good sleep and not see the haunting faces of his kin. Food for his cats were already dished out so that they could come in whenever and have a snack. He remembered packing his bags for a mission far away from home, somewhere in the Land of the Waves. 

_Breathe._

Was he dreaming? Can a dream feel this real? No, this cannot be a dream.

He's falling and _falling_ —

"Child, you should not be here." 

He stops, as if pulled by an invisible string and hovers mid-air, arms and legs flat out. He quickly snapped his head upwards, trying to find the source of the voice. His heartbeat boomed in his ears, felt ready to tear out of his body and beads of sweat ran down his neck. 

Where had this sudden fear come from? 

Phantom hands wrapped around his hips, holding tight but not unyielding like his brother's. His hands fly towards phantom ones and he tries to wretch it away. Struggling, he digs his nails in but those hands were relentless and drags him down, down to the dark. 

"Let me go!" He screams at the voice, promises of pain and suffering on the tip of his tongue. 

"Hush, young one. I am merely taking you where you _should_ be." 

The voice washes over him like a wave of water, leaving him trembling. The echo of it settles over him like a blanket, letting him to release a soft breath and relax his tensed muscles. He should not let his guard down, not let the _—Man? Woman? What did the voice sound like? How did he forget in a matter of seconds?—_

"Calm your mind, you are not in any danger here." 

This time, he tries to grasp the voice in his mind but it still slips away. It did not sound like the deep rawness of a man, nor did it sound like the fleeting gentleness of a woman. 

He licks his chapped lips and asks, "Who are you? Why am I here? Answer me!" 

"Silence! I need not answer your questions." 

Frustration crawls into his head, and he begins his struggle once more, not trustful of the voice. Just as he was about to ask once more, the hands stop and the breath knocked out of him. Immense pressure weighed down on him as if the skies itself had fallen on top of him. 

"You are here," The voice called out, "It had been indeed you to bring him here, was it not?" 

Deafening silence followed the question and the Voice snorted, whether it was disdain or amusement, he wouldn't know. The hands tightened around him and he clenched his teeth at the pain, his skin was sure to bruise and turn ugly-ish yellow. 

He frowned and yelled out when he was suddenly dropped, dropped to fall into the darkness he was beginning to fear. 

Instead of the void, or a hard floor, he fell into warm gentle hands. Thin and spider-like hands wrapped around his whole frame, as if shielding him away from the darkness. 

"Wh-what?" He sputtered and shivered when a finger rubbed his hair affectionately. He could not see the one behind the hands—who it was, sure to be a giant—but he smell the distinct perfume of sunflowers on a warm day. He could also feel halo of the sun on his skin, prickling him pleasantly.

Still on high alert, he asked once again with impatience and anger laced in, "Who are you all?!" 

Instead of meeting with a sharp tongue and tone, the one who held him laughed mirthfully. The laugh reminded him of a white dove soaring high into the white sky, it reminded him of the gentle waters of the sea, it reminded him of the soft petals of peonies. 

This time, he did not forget the sound of laughter.

Those large hands lowered him down slowly, onto a black floor with marbles shining clear as day. He let himself be positioned by those hands, too laxed out by the laugh. It left him aching the way he he ached for his brother. 

"Everything will fall into place," The voice said, "Yesterday, today, tomorrow has already happened yet not. Everything is a paradox that many do not understand and will not. Even at the end of time they will never grasp the futility of their lives and how they are merely pawns to the very thing that binds infinity, but there is no end for time either." 

_What?_

"Wha-what?" He asked, baffled to no degree. The notion that this was all a dream did not seem so crazy after all, how else could he explain this? 

For a moment, everything is utterly quiet and devoid of life other than him. He finds himself relaxing, convinced that this was all in his mind and a dream. Nothing to be afraid of, he would wake up sooner or later by the gentle licks of his nekos—

The floor tiles shift, giving away and he yelps when he falls again, this time faster and no hands to anchor him. Bright light flashed, nearly blinding him and the searing sound of a thunder is heard behind him. His body _flickered_ and he never felt so incomplete and complete at the same time. Breathless, he tries to wake up, clenching his fist hard enough to draw blood. 

He expects the pain to draw him out of this nightmare but it doesn't. He does not wake up gasping and with a sick feeling to his stomach, he realises that this was _not_ a dream.

"I wish I could take you away but, you are the only one I have. My one and only last child." 

And with that, Sasuke sees _everything._

He sees the sun, so beautiful and bright. He sees the stars, twinkling and circling his world. He sees his world, sees the death and destruction in a flash of light, too quick for him to catch anything. He sees his father burning with determination until the weight of their people on his shoulders hunch him down. His mother, a proud warrior with disbelief in her eyes when his grandmother tells her fate.

His cousin, Shisui, with a wish unfulfilled and water in his lungs. 

He sees his brother young, kneeling down to a man with bandages, with anguish in his eyes and he understands why his brother had tears that night. He sees his brother old, battered and bruised with blood near his cheeks. His brother lies with lifeless eyes on the cold ground, with rain lightly pouring on him. 

With a choked _Oh_ , he kneels down. The hard ground digs into his knees, the rain pitter patters forming small puddles he would have once pulled his brother into. He ignores the sudden constriction of air in his lungs, he ignores the cold dampness and his heart. 

He presses his lips softly near his brother's.

He sees the nations with the same insigma and there's so much death and _pain_ —

He sees it all. 

He sees. 

He wakes up with the sound of thunder crackling outside and the lightest of rain hitting his face. He would have gotten up from the bed and closed it but the sight of his brother lying dead in the cold was enough to make him whimper. 

_Be strong. He slaughtered and maimed your family. What would they say if they saw you?_

"But it was not him; was it? My brother—they _forced_ him to become this monster. They cornered my clan, left them out here as if we didn't build this village from the ground same as the Senju did. And then they act surprised when we rebel!" 

_Good. Let the anger burn through you but do not let it lead you. Your pain is justified in it's fury, but the village was not the one who ruined your kinsmen. It was the ones who lusted after your clans power, it was the ones who brought destruction upon one of it's once greatest allies. Do not instill your anger on the ones who were innocent._

The voice soothes him, phantom hands brushing his hair out of his face. 

"Who are you?" He asked. He could not see them, could not see the one behind the voice but deep down, he knew with clarity who it was as impossible it was.

_Amaterasu._

He closes his eyes. 

**Year 78, Before The Wave Mission**

* * *

Kakashi lately has been having a problem. 

A big, big problem in the shape of his little ball of vengeance, Sasuke Uchiha. 

He prides himself in being one of the more observant shinobis in their ranks. His days in the ANBU were proof of that. If anyone lost a piece of tinket, he was the first person to find it. If any enemy nin were closing in on them, he was the first one to alert his team. That was how he survived all those years in the war. 

_(You survived at the cost of their lives.)_

So, why is it that he can't find out what was wrong with his genin?

It started with small, dismissal things that he should have looked twice into. 

The first time it happened when they were training. Well, it was more of Naruto glaring at Sasuke after Sasuke beat him in hand-to-hand combat while Sakura fawned over her crush as usual. He winced internally at his female genin's antics. The kunoichi was anything but a shinobi and he would have felt bad for saying that if she wasn't _all_ over Sasuke. 

"Maa, let's all take a short break, hm?" He clapped his hands to get their attention.

"Sasuke, good job on deflecting all of Naruto's attack but you could have ended the fight with less moves than you used. Remember, you have to end fights as quick as possible. Do not drag it out, it will only come back to bite your ass. Naruto, you need to improve on your speed, your stances, your attacks, your defense and you need to _stop giving yourself away by shouting during the fight."_

He nearly growled on his last sentence. At the rate his blonde student was learning things, Naruto was bound to be killed in the first few hours of the missions. Then, when he himself bites the dust as well, he would have to look at his Sensei's _and_ Kushina's face and say, "Yeah, my bad that I couldn't teach your son on how to be a good ninja and he ended up dying because he was being an idiot." 

Yeah, _no_.

Sakura snickered at the pout on Naruto's face and as usual, Sasuke didn't say anything except for smirking slightly. 

"Hey! Why am I the only being scolded?! Sasuke-teme also made mistakes!" Naruto whined at the unfairness of it all. 

"It's not Sasuke-kun's fault for being than you." Sakura incited her teammate on, irritating Naruto more.

"What? That's not true, I'm waaaaaay better than teme!"

"Dream on, Naruto!" 

He sighed as those two argued on, didn't they get tired of doing this everyday? He turned his head around to look at his other student, the one who was more broody but less trouble. He narrowed his eyes, "Sasuke?" 

Sasuke's eyes were glazed over as he looked towards the forest, his face and body slack. He looked as if he was here but he _wasn't really_ here. 

"Sasuke?" He asked again, this time with concern. He stepped closer to his student and gently shook him, not wanting to spook him but neither let him be fixed into a trance. 

Black eyes snapped towards him and at that moment, he was awfully reminded of someone he once trusted his life with, a boy who looked much more like Sasuke with longer hair, "Are you okay?" 

Sasuke stared at him for a few seconds more, and looked away, drawing into himself, "Yes, Kakashi. It was nothing." 

_It didn't look like nothing,_ he wanted to say but refrained, instead chasting the boy for calling him by name instead of 'Sensei.' He dropped the subject, letting it slide as his student being tired of the fight. 

He shouldn't have, because it happened again and again. 

The last straw had been when Sasuke couldn't doge a kunai to the face, a kunai that was practically slowed down to match the speed of the dimmest of genin. As soon as he dropped from the tree from where was perched upon, the string of criticism on the tip of his tongue dies out when he sees is glazed over eyes and softened face.

It was then that he decided that it was a problem and that he would need to have a serious talk with his cute little genin. 

He only hopes that Sasuke would be at least a little welcoming when he drops by later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOO ANOTHER CHAPTER COMPLETED
> 
> As you see, we get our very first introduction to our favourite goddess-Amaterasu!!!!, she will be almost in every chapter from here now on. The tag itasasu comes to play here as well, I thought of making it a bit more explicit but I find myself not doing it so :P  
> Comments and kudos are very much appreciated since they tell me if im doing good or not xD


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